Sweet Revenge
by CSIBuckeye
Summary: Written for GF's Food Fight Ficathon, prompt was "Oreos." Definitely PWP. Sara gets creative to get her man.


She was not pouting

She was not pouting.

Was she?

Sara considered her crossed arms and tightly pursed lips. Oh hell, so what if she was. She was entitled. It was their first night off together in too many weeks to count and she'd been looking forward to spending some serious quality time with Grissom. Unfortunately it seemed he was going to be spending his free time with Brass and the boys playing poker.

"What do you want me to do Sara? Cancel?" Grissom's voice wafted into the bedroom. She could almost picture the steam from the shower carrying his words to her.

"Well apparently what I want isn't an option," she said under her breath.

"What was that?"

Damn, his hearing was almost too good now. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and called out a little louder than necessary, "I said just go."

He was in trouble for the pouting comment he knew, and as he took in the sight of her sitting on the edge of the bed, he realized he had his work cut out for him in the making up department. "You know I'd rather stay," he said softly.

The nearness of his reply surprised her and she looked up to see him standing in the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist. There were still patches of shaving cream along his sideburns and his hair had started to curl slightly. He looked almost adorable enough to tempt her out of her madness. Almost.

"But I haven't missed a quarterly game in seven years. If I don't show up, there are bound to be questions." He looked away before returning his gaze to hers and adding softly, "Questions I don't think either of us wants to answer yet."

She sighed and uncrossed her arms, "I know. But that doesn't make it any less disappointing."

He closed the distance between them in a few long strides and cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her head so he could look in her eyes. "Make no mistake Sara, I'm disappointed too." He hated even being partially responsible for that look on her face. Could she not tell how hard it was for him to go when all he really wanted was to lose himself in her?

She swallowed at the heat simmering behind those blue eyes. Good to know, she thought as she watched him lower his mouth to hers, and then she forgot what she'd been thinking. The feel of his tongue dancing over her lips before she opened herself to him was enough to make her lose her train of thought. But the passion in his kiss, the heat of his hand as it slid around behind her head pressing her more forcefully into his kiss, was almost enough to make her incoherent.

He could feel his heart racing, his face flushing and he knew if he didn't stop now, he wouldn't be able to. So he forced himself to pull back and rest his forehead against hers, "I'll make it up to you, I promise." And with a quick peck on the cheek he turned and headed to the still running shower, knowing he was going to have to significantly decrease the temperature now.

"You'd better," she muttered as she watched him walk away. She let out a long sigh and got up to raid her dresser, reluctantly accepting defeat. She pulled out her oldest, thinnest, rattiest tee shirt and paired it with holey sweats and fluffy socks. If she was going to spend the night on her own, she might as well be comfortable. Changing her clothes quickly she made her way into the kitchen in search of proper snacks for a night of movie watching, all the while trying to ignore the tingle that had bloomed within her at his kiss.

Scanning Grissom's not so secret stash in the cupboard, she ran her tongue over her lips, still tasting him there and wanting him more than ever. A familiar blue and white package caught her eye and a brilliant, if admittedly devious, idea took shape. She grabbed it and raced back to the bedroom, dropping her socks, pants and panties into a heap that she kicked under her edge of the bed. Quickly repositioning the pillows so she could prop herself up, she reclined back on them, posing herself on the bed just as she heard the shower shut off. Ripping open the package, she removed one cookie before setting the rest on his nightstand. Surveying her handiwork, she nudged her shirt just a little higher, showing almost the entire expanse of her thigh. And with a smug smile she twisted the cookie apart and began to ever so slowly lick the crème from half of the Oreo.

"Honey, have you seen my…" He stopped, frozen in place at the foot of their bed, unable to move except to watch her. Her eyes were closed and her long, bare legs stretched out before him, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her mouth. The sight of her pink tongue playing over the cookie made him instantly hard. He closed his mouth, just realizing that it had been gaping open since he walked into the room, and made a concerted effort to swallow. "What are you doing?"

"Hmmm?" She let her eyelids flutter open, "I didn't hear you come in."

But the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth told him otherwise and he knew he was being played. "I asked what you were doing. You seemed to be," he let his eyes drift over her, "enjoying yourself."

"Did you ever have a lick race?"

"A…a what?"

"You know, you twist apart an Oreo and have a race to see who can lick all the crème off, like this." She watched him struggle to concentrate on her words and a bolt of desire shot through her. It was still amazing to her that she could wield that kind of power over him and it never failed to make her wet.

"Uh…no." He was surprised he could still form words, even if it was only the rudimentary ones he was able to manage. The image before him was sex and innocence, and it was one of the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

"I always lost," she said meeting his eyes.

"You?" He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Sara smiled and shrugged, "I liked to savor mine." She could feel the heat of his stare as she brought the cookie back up to her mouth. "I liked to lick," the tip of her tongue peeked out and lapped at the white filling, "Mine," she swirled her tongue around the dwindling circle of crème, "Slowly."

Grissom heard the groan slip from his lips and he felt himself sway as he stood there transfixed by her performance. And he knew that's what it was, an act for his benefit, to make him sorry he was leaving. But still, he couldn't help it. He knew the wonderful things Sara's tongue was capable of and his cock throbbed in agreement. "Are you through?"

She simply turned and glanced at the full package next to her before looking back to him. "I just got started."

He licked his lips as he watched her reach for another cookie and God help him he couldn't stop thinking about what her kiss would taste like right then. He shook his head quickly, as if trying to dislodge the idea from his brain, turned and walked out the door.

Sara reached over and snagged his cell phone off the bedside table and held it extended out in one hand toward the door just as he walked back through it.

He stopped short and smiled as he took the phone from her, "You think you know me so well, don't you?"

"Don't I?" She arched her brow suggestively and smiled. "Why don't you stop resisting and come kiss me like you want to?" Desire flared in his eyes, and she could feel how the temptation pulled at him, but he didn't take a single step toward her. She watched him watch her, and found herself squirming under his gaze. She drew her right foot up along her left shin, pushing her shirt up even higher, and felt his eyes burn a path along the newly exposed skin.

Without taking his eyes off her, Grissom flipped open his phone, "Call Brass," he enunciated clearly. Pressing the phone to his left ear he said, "I'm not going to make it tonight."

Sara watched as Grissom listened for a moment to the inevitable question being asked. But her mouth fell open as she watched him bring his right hand down to stroke himself through his pants, "Sorry Jim, something unexpected came up." His eyes twinkled with a playfulness that only Sara really got to see and she grasped the hem of her shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion.

"What? No," he said as he licked his lips once more, "I can handle it, but I'm sure it's going to take awhile. Catch you guys next time," he said before shutting the phone and turning it off.

Sara watched him walk slowly to the bedside, place his phone on the table and sneak two cookies out of the package before sitting down at the edge of the bed. His movements were so controlled, if she wasn't paying attention she might have missed the tension coiled tightly beneath the surface of his skin. But Sara was in fact paying close attention.

"You," he said as he leaned into her, "Are such a tease." He captured her mouth before she had a chance to deny the accusation, letting his tongue glide over her lips before she parted them. And then he was lost, tasting her and the cookie in the sweetest combination he could have imagined. He pulled away gently, "You know, if I'm going to miss the game, you at least owe me a lick race," as he handed her a cookie. He toed off his shoes and scooted down to kneel at the foot of the bed facing her. "Rules?"

Sara stared at him for a second before answering, a victorious gleam dancing in her eyes and a growing need spreading throughout her body. "On the count of three we twist the Oreo apart. First one finished licking all the crème off, using only their tongue…wins."

"Would you like to do the honors then?"

"One," she grasped the cookie in both hands and smiled as she watched him. "Two," she said feeling her heart rate ratchet up a notch in anticipation, the look on his face promising so much more than a childhood game. "Three," she said in a rush of breath as she pulled the cookie apart. She had taken her eyes off Grissom to concentrate on dismantling the Oreo and she gasped in surprise when she felt the moist warmth of his tongue begin a slow path up her calf.

He paused at the sensitive spot behind her knee, placing an open mouthed kiss there before lifting his head. "You know, you might like to linger over a treat," he said lowering his head once more, letting his tongue glide along her inner thigh. "But when I'm really, really tempted by something," he lifted his eyes to hers, "I have a hard time controlling myself."

Sara sucked in a ragged breath as his mouth found her center. Her eyes snapped shut and she let her head fall back against the pillows, lost in the sensations he was creating. She didn't try to temper her responses, wanting every moan and gasp and incoherent mumble to let him know just how high he was taking her. Her world narrowed to simply the rough swipe of his tongue, the exquisite pressure on her clit, and the scratch of his beard along her inner thighs. There was nothing else.

Grissom was relentless, pushing her on, touching her in just the way he'd learned she wanted to be touched. And he could tell by the sounds that tumbled from her in waves, by the feel of her body writhing and twisting beneath him, that she was fast approaching the edge, and he couldn't help but smile against her. He hoped that somehow she could feel the joy he derived from pleasing her, from making her come.

She tilted her pelvis, pressing more firmly up into him, guiding him to where she now so desperately needed him to be. She urged him on with her words and her body, holding her breath as she teetered at the brink. And then he stopped.

"Of course your method has its merits too. Going slowly," he said before he slowly circled her clit one time. "Does give one the opportunity," he drew his tongue from her opening all the way through her folds. "To really savor the experience," he said as he pulled away grinning.

Sara growled her frustration. "I'm the tease?" She pushed herself up far enough to grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him up into a searing kiss. The taste of her on his tongue made her almost frantic. She tore at his clothes, needing him bare, needing him now.

Her heat ignited him. The feel of her fingers clawing at his shirt, seeking, needing, reaching, tore away his last bit of restraint. He unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down his hips as Sara pulled his shirt over his head. He made no attempt at removing his pants, there wasn't time, and they couldn't wait. Another second without the feel of being buried inside her was an eternity he wasn't willing to suffer.

Sara reached between their bodies and guided him into position. There was no hesitation, no longing looks, just two people surging together to become more. More than they were separately, more than they once ever knew they could be. Without thought they settled on a tempo that was fast and anything but furious. Her fingers caressed long lines of his skin from his shoulders to his ass and she pulled him even deeper inside.

His mouth teased at the spot on her neck that could make her so very weak in the knees. He whispered to her of perfection and fulfillment, there was nothing coarse in how he felt or what he said.

But they were both filled with the delicious tension they had built together and it lifted them ever closer to their release. When she ran her tongue over the rim of his ear and breathed a faint "Yes," on the whisper of a sigh, it was the single most erotic thing he'd ever heard. He shifted his weight and reached between their slick bodies, pressing firmly on her clit, circling it again and again. Capturing her mouth once more, he felt her explode around him.

She surrendered to the waves that crashed over her, felt her body tremble wildly as she called out. And somewhere in the distant recesses of her consciousness, she heard his voice answer with the faint echo of her name.

He tried to hold back, to prolong the vision before him, Sara coming undone beneath him, because of him, giving into the pleasure that he created for her. And he wanted to pause the moment and lose himself in the bliss reflected in her eyes in the instant before they involuntarily snapped closed. But he couldn't. The sound of his name on her lips, wrapped in the promise of forever was too much to resist. That one word revealed to him how much she trusted him, how much she loved him, how much she needed him. And each time he loved her he discovered something new about Sara, something that impossibly made him love her even more. But her voice dragged him from his thoughts and he tumbled after her into oblivion.

They were lying still intertwined, letting their breathing slow and basking in the nearness of each other, when he felt her begin to shake beneath him. He jerked his head up from her shoulder in concern but was surprised to find her laughing. And not just chuckling either. It was her deep, whole body, head thrown back belly laugh that he loved so much. It instantly brought a smile to his face, "What, pray tell, is so amusing?"

She could barely breathe, let alone speak, so she simply lifted her right arm and opened her hand. Pulverized almost beyond recognition and squished between each finger, was what had once been an Oreo.

"Serves you right," he said, feeling more than a little smug.

"Oh come on," she said as she grabbed a tissue and began cleaning up the gooey remnants from her palm. "Wasn't it just a little impressive how hot I could get you with a simple snack food?"

"Honey, you don't need a snack food for that," he said as he dropped a soft kiss on her lips, "Though I'm sure I'll never look at an Oreo the same way again."

Sara caught his eye and gave him a teasing wink, "You should see what I can do with a Twinkie." She pursed her lips, stifling a laugh at the sight of Grissom's eyebrows shooting up into his hairline and his mouth gaping open. Life was good, and revenge would indeed be sweet.


End file.
